


thank you

by pockethyewon



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst and Feels, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Inspired by The Giving Tree, Self-Sacrifice, if you squint you can see chuulip, jinsol is Selfish, jungeun is not tsundere, twojin are domestic gardeners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockethyewon/pseuds/pockethyewon
Summary: jungeun is reincarnated as a generous tree spirit who adores a young blonde girl named jinsol.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	thank you

**Author's Note:**

> also inspired by lippie's ridiculous halloween costume. it's my first work, please be gentle and kind! 
> 
> I never explicitly mention the last three members, but you can guess who they are :))

_Once there was a tree…_   
_And she loved a little girl._

Jungeun didn’t know how long it had been since she had last seen a person.  
After all, she was quite literally rooted to her spot.

But one inconspicuous spring day, a tiny blonde fluff, a sweet gift from the heavens appeared and gawked at the tree in childlike wonder.

“What a pretty tree,” the girl cooed as she jumped in excitement, “Hi Tree! I’m Jinsol!”

Jungeun chuckled at the precious child. “Hello, Jinsol. Call me Jungeun.”

“Okay, Jungeun!” The angel wasted no time, whooping in glee as she began to scale Jungeun and swing through her branches. She scrambled around Jungeun, collecting leaves into a crown and exclaiming proudly that she was Queen of the Forest.

Day after day, Jungeun would look forward to seeing snatches of blonde hair laugh and dart around her. She offered her lovely red apples and provided a cool, comforting shade when she tired out. Jungeun felt warmth blossom through the rings of her trunk.

Jinsol went to nap with a smile on her face, under the tree that loved her.

_And the girl loved the tree…_   
_Very much._

~~~

_But time went by._   
_And the girl grew older._   
_And the tree was often alone._

  
Time didn’t matter all that much to the tree. Mornings melted into afternoons melted into nights melted into weeks, seasons, and years. She spent the majority of her time in peaceful meditation while the insects buzzed around her and the birds nestled in the crooks of her twigs. Silence is nonexistent in nature, for the air around Jungeun hummed with the lifeforce of all living things and she had learned to love all living things.

When Jungeun wasn’t meditating or basking in pure sunlight, she reminisced about her life.  
Her first memory is of when she was a young sapling. Her creator was a kindred young woman with hair the color of fertile soil in the afternoon sun. Her name has long escaped Jungeun’s memory but she doesn’t mind. She was beautiful, and her beauty flowed freely from her smile and from her fingertips as she gave Jungeun life. Jungeun also remembers her creator working alongside someone who reminded her of a tabby housecat, dark-haired and playful. Together, her creators allowed her to thrive in the garden that kept her company. Jungeun often spoke to the nearby sunflowers who hummed a sweet tune. She loved them all.

One day, Jungeun spotted her familiar angel approach.

“Jinsol, come play with me. Swing through my branches and eat my apples and be happy.”

Her angel then sighed and grumbled, “I’m too old to be doing things like that. I want a life, I want to make money and have fun. I want to be a famous singer.”

Something itched at the back of Jungeun’s consciousness, but she pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry, I have no money,” but Jungeun thought quickly, “but you can take my apples and sell them. You’ll make money and you’ll be happy.”

And so the girl didn’t hesitate to pluck every last red apple from the tree that loved her.

_And the tree was happy._   
_But the girl stayed away for a long time…_   
_And the tree was sad._

Jungeun remembers swirling, devilish winds that had deposited a ravenous, merciless hunger in her garden. Under the stygian blanket of the new moon, the sun crash-landed in a glorious triumph. Her Eden was consumed by an insatiable phantom of life. The clipped angel wings drifted around her. Jungeun wished for silence instead of the thief's crackling laughter because the structure which stood in front of the garden was nothing more than a pile of rubble. Ashes to ashes. Fertile soil and her tabby housecat stood like ghosts watching their life slip away. Then, they glowed rose pink and dandelion yellow as they wandered into the afterlife. Jungeun doesn’t know why she survived, but she wished she didn’t.

Then, her angel returned, a little older now.

“Jinsol, come play with me. Swing through my branches and eat my apples and be happy.”

She crossed her arms and scoffed, “I don’t have time for that. I want a family around me, to have a wife and little kids,” and she dropped her arms. “I need a house. Can you give me a house?”

Jungeun looked at Jinsol and could not resist.

“I have no house because this is my home,” Jungeun felt the roots underneath her, “but you can take my branches and build your house...and then you’ll be happy.”

And so the girl cut every last branch from the tree that loved her.

_And the tree was happy._   
_But the girl stayed away for a long time._

Jungeun longed to feel the wind rustle through her leaves once more. What she took for granted now reminded her of something she had experienced in her past life, something in which seeing Jinsol made her remember: the breeze through golden hair.

She meditated with every fiber of her being, trying to feel her legs bending through her roots, her arms outstretched above her through the top of her trunk, and the feeling of her lips curling into a smile. Something thumps in Jungeun's trunk and can almost recall the feeling of being human.

In her mind’s eye, she can see the brightest smile of all. It doesn’t matter that Jungeun could feel her name on the cliff before the darkness. She didn’t mind and it doesn’t matter when Jungeun could see her smiling at her with such adoration in her eyes, with enough light to illuminate the darkness. She can feel her hand in her own, leading her into Eden and that brings Jungeun some peace.

When her angel trudged towards her, Jungeun shook, overjoyed to see her again at last. She could barely manage to speak.

“Come, Jinsol...come and play…”

The girl looked down, twisting her shoe into the dirt. Time had begun to grace her. “I’m too old and sad to play. I want a boat to take me far away. Can you give me a boat?”

Jungeun stared. “You can take my trunk and make a boat...then you can sail away, and you’ll be happy.”

And so the girl took the trunk of the tree that loved her, made a boat, and sailed into the unknown.

_And the tree was happy_   
_…but not really._

~~~

_After a really long time_   
_The girl came back again._

The now snowy-haired angel stood before Jungeun.

  
“I’m sorry, Jinsol. I have nothing left to give. I don’t have any more apples.”

  
She smiled weakly, “My teeth aren’t strong enough for apples anymore.”

“My branches are all gone, there’s nothing for you to swing on.”  
Jinsol chuckled, “My arms aren’t strong enough to climb, much less to swing.”

“My trunk is gone, you can’t- Oh.”

“I’m tired.”

Jungeun felt drained. “I’m sorry. I’m just an old stump now. I’m not good for much of anything.”

Then, Jinsol’s heart flooded with pain and realization. It hit her all in one gigantic selfish wave that nearly brought her to her knees. The lifetime she had spent living for nobody but herself, the time she had wasted, squandered, taken all for granted, and here was her selfishness personified. Jinsol feels the truth in her aching chest: that this tree had always loved her. She choked back tears, “I do-don’t need m-much now...j-jus-just a q-q-quiet place t-to sit and r-re-rest.” Her thin fingers came to cover her mouth as the grief pooled around her heart and drenched her soul thoroughly like a soaked blanket.

At this, Jungeun straightened up as much as she could. She felt the warmth rise in her once again like she did, all those years ago, although now bittersweet. Her angel had returned.

“I guess an old stump is good for something after all. Come, sit Jinsol.”

Jinsol blindly ambled her way to what was left of the tree that loved her. She let go of everything through her wracking sobs. She sat and a lifetime of pain poured out of her glassy marble eyes.

When every ounce of hurt had taken its leave of her, Jinsol spoke for the last time.

“Thank you, for everything...Jungeun.”

And the tree was happy.


End file.
